"Lee Ho!"
They weathered the point, and could now see the light of their house upon the cliff. Almost they were safe. For a time they rushed forward, blinded and drenched with rain and spray; then suddenly the wind was cut off, and it was calm. They were steadily moving towards their moorings in the Bay, and the shower was now pouring straightly out of the sky. The whole world had seemed a welter of water rushing at them from every point. Now it was merely raining, and they were uncomfortable.
Peter looked at Miranda. Her eyes and cheeks shone with excitement out of the bedraggled wreck of her hair. Her clothes clung absurdly about her. He felt the water trickling down his back and chest, and Miranda moved uneasily. She, too, was ridiculously teased.
But Peter's heart was glad. Their quick race under the cruel cliffs had shown him in a vision their life to come. It had given him a comrade at need, a companion for every day, brave and keen, rising above disaster, redeeming life from the peril, discomfort, and ridicule of mischance.
He ran the boat to her moorings, and watched Miranda as she hung over the side to ship the buoy. Her skirt, folded about her, dripped copiously into her shoes. He remembered how, as a boy, he had kissed the hem of her frock. He softly laughed, but wished he had not been so busy with the ropes.
When the boat was still, they looked at one another and burst into laughter. They were so miserably wet and foolish. Then Peter remembered how the spray had dashed upon the cruel white cliffs as they raced into the Bay; and it made their companionable safety very sweet. He flung his clammy arms about her, kissing her wet face and hair.
Already the lit windows of their house twinkled to the sea, and the moon was beginning to swing her lamp. At midnight she once more lit them preciously together. Then the sun put her out, and another day, kind and beautiful, called them happily to the common round.
THE END